Light
by leapoffaith-13
Summary: Erin's has survivors guilt over the Replicator attack.


Erin and Dave sat in the bedroom, she at her cream colored vanity, he at the headboard of their king size bed with Mudgie, his dog, laying guard on the floor next to him. Erin brushed her golden locks, which she mused, needed a haircut since they reached past her shoulders. Dave sat with his back watching her. She was still timid and weary, her steps still cautiously calculated, after what John Curtis, the Replicator, did to her. His head was swirling thinking plots for his next best seller, the extravagant caseload the BAU had somehow accumulated and finally, getting Erin, his Erin, back to proper health.

Finally, he spoke, dispersing the air in their bedroom, "We need some light. First of all, we need some light. You can't sit here in the dark, and all alone. It's a sorry sight. It's just you and me. We'll live. You'll see." He heard her breath hitch at the 'you and me' part of the conversation and sighed. Her three adult children, Brittany, 21, Gregory Jr., 20, and Alicia, 16, had all but disowned her before rehab. Erin's first husband, her companion for 25 years, Gregory, had filed for divorce two years ago, before her stunt at the military camp. She wanted to speak but couldn't, no words coming out. So, Dave continued. "Night after night, we'd sit and wait for the morning light. But we've waited far too long for all that's wrong to be made right."

She sighed, contemplating her words carefully. She knew his meaning; she had to get better, for her, for him, for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, the one she'd sworn an oath to protect. "Day after day, wishing all our cares away. Trying to fight the things we feel, but some hurts never heal. Some ghosts are never gone, but we go on. We still go on."

"And you find some way to survive." Dave told her as she put her brush down and got off her vanity ottoman. She turned to him with a light smile, which he barely caught in the dark, side for the white sliver of light escaping the curtains into their bedroom from the moon, before going into the Master bathroom. "And you find out you don't have to be happy at all. To be happy you're alive." He whispered sadly.

He heard the water running as she was brushing her teeth and putting the last of her nighttime skin reaffirming crème on. Silently, he got out of bed, stripped down from his polo shirt and dark jeans to his boxers, and opened the sheets for him to climb in. Mudgie took the sign and headed for the black leather loveseat to make as his bed for the evening. Dave reached over to his bedside table and put his alarm on for 6 a.m. He turned on his left side and sighed heavily before closing his eyes.

Coming out of the bathroom, Erin frowned realizing David had already fallen into a soft slumber. "Day after day, give me clouds, and rain, and grey. Give me pain if that's what's real. It's the price we pay to feel," she recited inwardly to herself as her mantra. She looked over at him and contemplated going into their guest bedroom for the evening. Their fight this evening didn't help her mental stability, and she craved. Oh, how she craved the magic elixir of a martini or whiskey sour. "The price of love is loss; but still we pay. We love anyway." Kissing her husband's cheek, Erin grabbed her pink housecoat that was hanging from the door frame and headed for the hallway. Mudgie heard her footsteps and followed her out of the room. She left the door open for the golden Chesapeake Retriever but he found the hallway outside of her room comfortable and laid down, standing guard.

Dave and Erin continued their routine for the next three months. They'd get ready for bed, she'd go to the bathroom to finish up and he'd fall asleep. Then she'd head to the guest bedroom and cry herself to sleep, cursing John Curtis for screwing up her mental stability. One rainy day, Gregory Jr. called Dave to check on his mother. A pang of guilt finally got to Greg, or so he told Dave. Maybe he was prying on Erin's sanity for her ex-husband, but Dave didn't care. He was happy Greg was trying to make in-roads with his mother, who needed them so.

Greg, the 20 year old, National Intelligence University sophomore, stopped by Dave's office at Quantico to talk about Erin's days and nights. He couldn't help but encourage the young man to stop and see Erin at Dave's apartment in Fairfax because it would really brighten her spirits.

"And when they night has finally gone. And when we see the new day dawn, we'll wonder how we wandered for so long, so blind." Dave told Greg.

"The wasted world we thought we knew. The light will make it look brand new." Greg smiled at Dave, agreeing with his suggestion. It didn't take long for Greg to get back in his white Honda Civic and pull out his new iPhone calling his mom. It seemed like an hour but it was short and sweet and everything Erin wanted. Within the hour, Greg had called Brittany and Alicia telling them about the great man Dave was their mom's recovery and how bad she had missed her kids.

When David returned to his apartment, throwing his keys in the bowl on the table waiting in the foyer, he padded to the kitchen. Erin was sitting at the breakfast bar, glass of ice water in front of her, with steaks broiling in the oven, making the apartment smell divine. Her makeup was done, her face free from the bags under her eyes that had defined her past year. Her hair was back in the barrettes that held the locks in place, something Dave had missed tremendously. Her long leads were accentuated in the black slacks she wore. An old Marine t-shirt draped over Erin's slender body.

She was staring at a picture in the middle of the table, underneath the bunch of calla lilies in the rose colored vase. The picture was of the three kids on Dave's cabin steps in Little Creek. Alicia had Mudgie in her arms. Gregory and Brittany were sitting next to Alicia petting the dog. Erin sat on the porch looking peacefully at them. Dave snapped the photo, it was one of the first photos they had of Erin after her divorce. She had leaned on Dave and he came through for her with flying colors: offering her his cabin, his apartment, his heart.

He knew the cause of Erin's happiness. So when she smiled at him, the first time in a year, the smile he loved met her ocean blue eyes, Dave's smile matched hers. He looked at her, finally, so radiant sitting on the breakfast bar stool. "So let it...let it...shine!" He murmured before his lips finally met hers. The kiss was chaste and simple, but real. It wasn't forced and cautious anymore.

"Day after day, we'll find the will to find our way." Erin broke from his arms as the oven timer went off. Dave grabbed a glass from his cupboard before closing the blinds in the small kitchen window above their sink.

"Knowing that the darkest sky will someday see the sun—" Dave began before Erin wrapped her hands around his waist, her head snuggled between his shoulder blades. She inhaled the scent that was so strictly Dave and sighed with a smile on her face. Turning to face her, he put the cup on the bar behind him, and he engulfed her in a hug. "When our long night is done. There will be light." He placed a kiss on her forehead before letting her go to the left and retrieve plates while he went right towards the ice maker and refrigerator and lemonade.

"There will be light." Erin reiterated. She winked at him before plating the steak, baked potato and asparagus she had made for dinner. "When we open up our lives, Sons and daughters, Husbands, wives, and fight that fight, there will be light."

Dave smiled at his girlfriend's new found breath of life. It had taken minutes, seconds, hours, days, weeks, and months, but Erin had finally started to heal. Erin's family finally started to heal.  
"There will be light..." Dave kissed her before sitting next to hear at the table and they dug into the meal together. Smiling. 


End file.
